


And Then He Let Go

by OliviaPendleton



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester One Shot, Destiel - Freeform, Drunk Dean Winchester, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Gen, M/M, One Shot, Sad and Sweet, Short One Shot, ThisIsReallyBadAndI'mSorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:53:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25922377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaPendleton/pseuds/OliviaPendleton
Summary: Castiel believes that there are some things Dean Winchester will never be able to understand about him, but perhaps he is wrong.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Destiel
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	And Then He Let Go

The Winchesters had never truly understood Castiel but that was fine by him for the most part. After all, there seemed to be a lot that humans were incapable of comprehending and yet they still tried too. Perhaps that spiritedness had been one of the very attributes that had drawn him near. The garrison was far from enthusiastic and their drive only stretched to the means that God would allow. They were born, if one will, to be servants to the Lord almighty. 

Despite their general misunderstanding of who Castiel was as a being, sometimes he swore that he could see a glimmer of clarity flicker through the eyes of Dean Winchester. When all of the lights busted out into the barnyard floor and the storm blew the doors in, Castiel saw clarity resting in his frightened gaze. Only for a moment though before Dean let his skepticism harden his gut. Castiel found it almost amusing at first but then quickly grew confused with the hunter's resistance. 

Had it truly been so insane a premise, to even consider the existence of angels?

It had been to Dean. 

Despite that split second of all-knowing awe he reverted back into his disbelief. 

There had been a handful of times since then that Castiel had seen the same realization develop across his face but it always vanished as quickly as it came. Sometimes it pained him to see all of the understanding go away but he simply just had to remind himself that humans were not capable of fathoming everything. Even if the premise was a solace to consider.

It was back again now, though. Dean staggered drunkenly and tried to squirm out of Castiel’s grasp, much to the angel’s agitation. “You’re severely intoxicated and you must allow me to walk you back to your motel. When humans become inebriated the chances of them suffering a mugging or other means of disadvantage increase greatly…” His brow was creased with a silent type of irritability. 

Dean half-tripped before catching himself on a telephone pole, head lolling back slightly with a laugh. “Oh, I’m fine! Just go on somewhere! Or wait no-! Y’know what Cas…? I think that I’m hungry, we should go get… Uh… Pfft, we should go get a burger or something…!” Although he was stumbling around from the inebriation, his words refrained from slurs. “S’not like we got anythin’ else to do!”

Castiel stood corrected.

He sighed and gently ushered Dean further down the pavement, making sure to keep his hands to himself. The hunter was denying any and all assistance with walking and highly detested being ‘zapped’ anywhere. “Dean..." Cas chided, tone gruff in that familiar sawdust way. "You just ate, so I know that there is no way you feel hungry right now. What you need is a few hours of rest….” 

The human only waved his hand wildly in dismissal, “Yeah, yeah… But aren’t you hungry..?”

“You know that I don’t-”

“Oh… Yeah, that’s right. You don’t get hungry, or thirsty, or tired…” It sounded almost spiteful for a split second but all of the resolve vanished quite rapidly. Dean was staring at him intently, green eyes boring into Castiel’s with that familiar flicker of clarity again. Like, for once he finally understood what Castiel was and what he’s done. Perhaps even the things that he’s gone through. 

And he’s right.

And now Castiel is scared.

Castiel had always assumed that Dean saw him as a superhuman of sorts instead of an entirely different species. Instead of a centuries old being that had watched empires rise and fall, and slaughtered the first born sons of Egypt. If he tried to see Castiel through a human lens as opposed to what he actually was, then it might make him feel more comfortable. That was exactly what Dean had tried to do.

Now though, despite being drunk, Dean could look up at Cas and see something quite ancient. Something far stronger than him, something wrathful. The hunter took a tipsy step forward and firmly placed his hand on his companion’s shoulder. The angel observed his movements with unbridled curiosity. What was this human going to do next?

“Thank you, Cas…” 

The words came out with a lopsided grin and unmatched brevity. 

“For what…?”

“Just for everything, y’know?”

That response seemed very non-committal to Castiel but maybe it held its own weight. After all, there were some things that angels could not comprehend either. Dean Winchester leaned in and wrapped his arms around Castiel’s shoulders who only remained stagnant for a few moments. The hug might have been short-lived but it spoke volumes, perhaps. Maybe Dean really did understand how much rebelling against Heaven hurt. How scary it was to get kicked from the bunker and into the human world. Maybe he really did understand how Castiel had always looked upon Earth with no more than idle confoundment until now. 

For once in all the years of their companionship, perhaps Dean finally could see how absolutely tethered Castiel felt to him. 

And then he let go. 

The embrace ended and the angel had only now just realized that his eyes had fallen shut into the contact. Surely he was incapable of touch depravity but that felt nice all the same. It made Cas feel relieved and content and somehow sullen. 

It reminded him of the time he had lost his Grace. Being human was disheartening and oh so painful. Everyday that he had to roll out of bed and try to present himself as a working member of society hurt. There was always one benefit that came to mind though with being mortal. He would never have to see Dean Winchester, or even Sam for that matter die. Instead of being chained to his own immortality he could go first, and never have to worry about watching their souls leave their bodies. For the longest time, Castiel had considered the lives of the Winchester’s similar to an absolutely gorgeous yet agonizing blink of the eye. They were there and then in a few seconds they were going to be gone. Cas would be left alone with the rest of time and a few memories of the boys he had given everything for. 

After Dean had broken out of the hug, he slung an arm around Cas and started to amble down the street. Rambling about Metallica and the pie from the bar. He would occasionally speak up about how the sky was unfortunately starless tonight, and how his hangover tomorrow would be massive. 

After Castiel, the Angel of Thursday, had soundly put the human to bed he waited outside. He knew that the boys hated it when he watched them sleep so he climbed into the driver’s seat of the Impala, which he was normally not allowed to do, and leaned into the leather. Hands planted firmly on the wheel, he sat and thought that night about how perhaps Dean Winchester knew more than he was ever willing to admit.

When the hunter woke up the next morning, begging for an Aspirin, it was obvious that he had no recollection of the night before. The flicker was gone and he had shrunken back down into his perceived knowledge. So much so that he was now asking a celestial being if he wanted to go shove pancakes down his gullet with them. Perhaps Dean had never actually understood and the angel had just been overreaching again.

“Hey, Cas… Me and Sam are headin’ out to a diner for breakfast. You coming with?”

Castiel did.


End file.
